additional incarnations

Fame came circa 1980 when a Waukesha Freeman photographer heard of our banjo-man windmill made from my grandmother's cake pans and venetian blind slats. Shortly after installing in the front yard a high wind blew the assembly down and it came to rest a block to the east, on Arcadian Avenue.

The parts were saved and have been revered for the tokens of temporariness that they are; we all are. Yesterday's post to the sewer raccoon news shows a close-up section of the venetian blade wind-catching part, covered in hoar frost. [If interested, cross-refer. http://raccoonnews.blogspot.com/2009/01/what-comes-to-mind.html] Like the windmill itself, the ephemeral frozen fog came and went, too soon.

The banjo-man was geared so that as the wind velocity sped, the little man on the platform strummed the strings and stomped his foot faster and faster. It must have been in a frenzy when it took off and flew away. We wish we could have seen it..............?